A Little Bit of Trouble Read Online Free

her thick long eye lashes and smirks angrily. “Bye, bye.”
         “Fine, fine, I get it . I am sorry though. Even though I never did anything to you directly I shouldn’t have let anyone else either,” I give her an honest smile. My eyes catch the broken shelf behind the counter. “That needs fixing.”
         She follows the direction in which my eyes are looking and shrugs, “Everything needs fixing in here.” I can’t help but watch her lips as she talks, so pouty and full. She must have had braces at some point because her teeth are rather straight in comparison to how I remember them being. “You can come back and collect your percentage of the profits…”
          “They’re a donation. Keep the profits…”
          “That’s not how it’s done here. We don’t take charity.” She sounds just like me, I can finally see how infuriating it is… not that I give a fuck.
          “My sister in law is loaded, she won’t miss it. Trust me.” How can I see her again? To make it up to her for being such a dick in the past.
     
    Yeah, let’s pretend that’s the reason you want to see her again.
     
         “See you later!” I call as I turn to leave, making sure to burn her very image onto my mind. My cock is fucking killing me, it’s going to have a zipper imprint on it at this rate. I need a shower. A cold one.
        I leave her open mouthed… groan… and shocked, possibly annoyed and a little pissed off. Have you ever met someone for even the briefest amount of time and for some reason there’s a pounding thought in your… ‘heads’… that you just have to get to know them? Well, fuck, because this is happening to me and I don’t like it one bit.
         There’s a reason people say a dick has a head… it does.
     
         It tends to be the ruling head more often than I’d like too.
     
     
     
     
        So many hours later, my place is empty, I spent my afternoon shopping for movies and games and other shit to pass the time. When I finally made it home my kitchen was clean and tidy. My apartment didn’t look like it had even hosted an event as hectic as whatever the fuck kind of event they hosted. Yet even though my entire afternoon has flitted by faster than expected my mind has been full of unshakeable thoughts of a certain fucking woman.
     
         How can she be Scary Carey? It’s stupid. They look nothing alike.
     
    I turn in bed.
     
         Maybe she had a lot of surgery, nah, she doesn’t look fake at all. There’s a reason she was called Scary Carey. From what I can remember, her mom was an alcoholic and really negligent which made Scary Carey really withdrawn and quiet. The way she looked at you would freak you out, like she wanted to kill you. Or so I heard…
         I think she got the nickname because of the way she looked, I don’t really remember but what I do recall in my fucked up memory is her always having her hair over her face and her eyes always seemed wide and frightened. This is probably where she got the nickname from. I would ask but I don’t think she’d appreciate that much.
     
    I turn again. Sigh.
     
         It’s all really dramatic bullshit now and of course I feel like crap. She was a quiet and nice girl. I remember she loaned me a pencil once during a football game, she was sat with Dana on one of the rare occasions Dana was kind to her. I don’t think I ever gave it back.
     
    I turn again. Huff.
     
         It’s just a little bit of lust. It will pass. I’ll have forgotten about her by next week. I’m hungry. I’m also horny. I haven’t been this horny since the night I… let’s not think about that. Shit. Such a creep, I’m such a god damn creep! Crystal will be flipping me off from wherever she’s perched, I guarantee it.
       Man I miss her. I miss her soft skin and nibbling on her thin upper lip, I miss the way she always smelled of green apples, because of that stupid fucking shampoo